What Happens at the Cabin

There are good ideas, and then there are great ideas.

It was a great idea to book a weekend out at our favourite cabin in Cowichan Bay this weekend. I've been reluctant to go back for a while... the last time we were here, it was with Rascal. Somehow, his memory is attached to this place. It was one of the last places we went with him before he died.

But, recently, I've needed some time by the woodstove. And, as soon as it was lit, I was mesmerized by it, and I felt warm and relaxed. It was a great idea, after all.

This morning, we went for a two-hour hike up Mount Tzouhalem. I never used to be one for uphill hikes: I am a prairie girl, after all. While it was my idea to go, I forgot about the windy, bendy, make-me-car-sick roads on the way. As soon as we got there, I just started walking to get some fresh air into me and to shake my light-headedness, and let the hubby catch up.

Soon, we were deep within the forest, and I felt better:

And and hour later, when we got to the top, we got a beautiful view:

Once we got down, we went to Genoa Bay for some lunch and a little stroll around the marina:

I found my new cooking spoon set:

And then, we went back to the cabin, where I promptly fell asleep. Two hours on a mountain and then a lamb burger for lunch does that to me.

When I awoke, I sprung out of bed, put this dress on and brushed my hair. You see, I'd been saving my latest finished project for the cabin, because I knew I wanted to take photos of it here on the deck. I planned the outfit and everything:

I think I looked pretty good for someone who just woke up from a nap (and, I'm realizing, needs a haircut):

The pattern is from Azure, and it makes use of a grapevine lace pattern. I cast on a bunch more stitches (I honestly can't remember how many now) and kept knitting until I reached the end of the skein. I'm pleased to say it turned out to be a nice length: not too short, but not so long to be floppy and unwieldy:

And wide enough to cover my back:

The yarn is hand-dyed alpaca from Twist Yarns in Manhattan Beach. I'm so glad that neither the lace pattern nor the subtle dyes over the natural colour of the alpaca were lost in the finished object:

Anyway, we're here at the cabin until tomorrow. I'm sitting here with my next knitting project next to me, thinking of my little Rascal and how much I miss him. I miss him every single day. I guess it's true: what happens at the cabin does stay at the cabin. And maybe that's not such a bad thing... because I suppose I know he'll always be here, somehow:

Sigh. I miss him. I think I always will.

Goodnight.